


found, lost, and still searching

by _bspctcldwrites (dashinaname)



Category: Gameboys (Web Series 2020)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Arranged Marriage, CaiReel week 2020, Child Abandonment, Childhood Friends, Day 2, Found Family, Future, Gavreel Alarcon Has Abandonment Issues, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,801
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27473524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashinaname/pseuds/_bspctcldwrites
Summary: Gavreel's trip down the river sends the infant to a village where he finds family, friends (and enemies), and a love that sounds and looks a lot like Cairo.He trains himself to not run away, but Gavreel remains tormented by a past he can't recall.----caireel week 2020, day 2future, found family, arranged marriage au
Relationships: Gavreel Alarcon & Pearl Gatdula, Gavreel Alarcon/Cairo Lazaro
Comments: 7
Kudos: 25
Collections: CaiReel Week 2020





	found, lost, and still searching

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. I'm a day late. This was supposed to be a one-shot, but CaiReel gave me hell and said, "How about you write your fics for day 2 and day 7 as a series?"
> 
> Well, here we are. I hope you enjoy this as much as I did writing it!

If asked about his earliest childhood memory, Gavreel would have regaled the curious with the story of how he was left to float in the river in a wicker basket so porous the freshwater soaked his swaddling clothes and almost drowned him. Of course, he didn’t die; he wouldn’t be coming up with this hypothetical situation if he were successfully sent off the fast lane to Gonersville.

No one ever talks about the tale of his abandonment and finding, so he’s often left to wonder what it would have been like if he were asked how he came to the village. In fact, if his banged up memory were to be trusted, he recalled only one instance it was ever addressed. When he was seven, his adoptive family disclosed to him that one of their servants came across his useless lifeboat rocked by the current before he could get swallowed by the river. This was probably the _watered_ down version, sans the grisly details, because they didn’t want to spook him further when they basically told him he was offered to the river spirits. (At least, that's one of the many assumptions Gavreel made upon hearing about it.)

That was the first and last time they ever mentioned the story. It was as if they told him so they could be done with it and spare themselves the trouble of having to deal with the plethora of existential questions he would’ve come up with had they chosen to tell him too late. Nipped it in the bud while they could.

After all, there’s no rhyme or reason for forsaking a child. In wicker baskets clearly not made for aquatic travel, no less. Sometimes, Gavreel finds himself thinking, _Why didn’t they just stop at deserting me on dry ground? Why did they have to bring me to the water?_

Three times out of five, he voices out these questions to Cairo, and Cairo tells him in some form or another, “They wanted you dead, that’s it.”

Now, the mercurial Cairo isn’t the friendliest of his friends in the village, but Gavreel is very fond of him. While everyone’s skirting around his origin story, Cairo doesn’t hold back. He doesn’t treat Gavreel as though he were made of glass.

He makes Gavreel feel normal. Like an equal.

“And so what if they did? They didn’t succeed,” Cairo adds as a postscript, offhanded, Cairo’s version of being nice. Gavreel appreciates the lousy attempt, a huge leap from the Cairo who was a lot less considerate when they first met. 

With Cairo, it’s always the thought that counts. It took Gavreel no time to comprehend and take this to heart.

That summer's day, Gavreel and Cairo have run off to the clearing that sits at the edge of the wood the elders have forbidden them from ever stepping into. But being reckless teenagers who have yet to realize their fables of invincibility, this isn’t the first time they toed the line that separates their village from uncharted territory.

Cairo is aware that this is Gavreel’s favorite spot in the village—Gavreel made it a point to repeat it until, for the sake of his sanity, Cairo took it upon himself to refer to it in casual conversations only the two of them are privy to.

They have to cross a thick grove of rainbow eucalypti to get to this particular clearing, effectively concealing them from onlookers coming from beyond the dense cluster of trees. At the center is a lone rubber fig with gnarly roots as thick as human limbs. They sit amidst the buttress roots—in recent years a task that has become more difficult because boys inevitably grow, but still serving the purpose of giving cover from the world outside. They stay quiet for a few moments upon settling themselves, listening to the infamous river whizzing by rocks unseen from their perch.

“Do you think it’s beautiful out there?” Gavreel whispers, careful not to disturb the song of the cicadas punctuated by the breeze that will rustle the branches and leaves every few moments.

“Maybe,” Cairo says, leaning back on the roots so that he can cast his gaze heavenward. “But it _could_ be no different from what’s here in the village.”

“Sucks that we can’t see for ourselves, huh?”

Cairo shuts his eyes so his lashes flutter against his cheeks, reddened from the sun and the trek to this private space. "Not really."

Gavreel releases a breath. Despite being nonchalance personified, Cairo understands him the most. One day many summers ago, Cairo had answered the same question with, "I guess," and Gavreel followed up with, "Do you think they closed off this area when I was found? The servant couldn’t have wandered off and found me if it was forbidden ground, right?" Cairo was silent afterwards, visibly grappling with the right answer, and ever sympathetic, Gavreel picked another thread of conversation.

To the onlooker, his friend can come off as a snob who couldn’t care less about other people. But Cairo is adept to learn the few ways to prevent Gavreel from falling into the endless pit of questions that serve no other purpose but to remind him that he was never meant to be here.

And this is why sometimes, Gavreel thinks Cairo's too good to be true. During lulls in the day, he wonders if Cairo sticks to him just to be sure he doesn’t cross the line. A thought that often births another query that he won’t ever want to hear the answer to: _Will Cairo care at all if I disappear forever, or will he think, 'good riddance'?_

He likes to think that Cairo isn’t that sort of person, but the funny thing about being abandoned is that it doesn’t ever abandon you. It never really goes away. Not even Cairo can take it away.

Still, Gavreel’s fear of losing Cairo is bigger than his fear of being deserted by anyone else, so on most days, he is able to quash the million other scenarios that gnaw at him like maggots feeding off discarded game. Looking at Cairo like this, when he’s bathed in sunlight that passes through the canopy, unguarded and completely trusting that Gavreel won’t slip away—at least, not physically—, Gavreel can’t find it in himself to ever dare to find out.

He likes it too much here. Loves being beside Cairo every waking minute.

So, today, Gavreel decides that he won’t run away.

***

If asked about his fondest childhood memory, Gavreel would be tripping all over himself to tell the story of the day he and Cairo first met.

Gavreel had just turned five, then obsessed with playing hero and defeating monsters as tall and wide as trees. His adoptive sister Pearl was always so eager to play the damsel in distress—all the while asserting that she needed no man to save her, a girl thing Gavreel couldn’t quite wrap his head around in the past. This conveniently fueled Gavreel’s grand fantasies of one day wielding a sword that he’d drive through a dragon’s heart.

Of course, with a head full of nothing but combat, Gavreel knew of only two emotions. The entire spectrum simply fell into either: there was fear, and there was joy (from being saved, for sure).

In retrospect, he should’ve studied someone else’s expressions other than Pearl’s, that shitty actress. But Gavreel wasn’t exactly the most popular kid ’round the block, and he wouldn’t know why until he did, two years later.

It was with this crude emotional radar that Gavreel met Cairo. The moment he cast his gaze on the other boy, hanging back and looking everywhere else but him as their parents conversed, Gavreel made it his mission to save the boy.

He’d seen it before: downcast eyes that refused to link with his meant the victim was trying to not get caught by whoever held them captive. One straying look would easily land said hostage in the dungeons of the virtual tower that Gavreel summoned in his daydreams.

So, Gavreel refused to take his eyes off Cairo. He’d employed this tactic before, in one of the countless times he rescued Pearl. His sister even told him it worked like magic. If you stared at someone long enough, they would eventually turn to you.

"It's related to the power of attraction, or something," Pearl told him.

"Where’d you even hear that?" Gavreel had asked.

"The _ates_ were being loud again in the public baths."

Of course, Gavreel should’ve thought twice before trusting secondhand information neither of them completely understood, but he did, so.

His eyes had gone dry as a desert when at long last Cairo looked at him. (Later, he would learn that the boy did so only because their parents finally gave clearance to greet each other, but Gavreel was much too consumed with not blinking lest the boy got whisked away by an unseen monster to even pay attention to the adults.)

The moments that followed would define Gavreel and Cairo’s friendship for years to come.

Gavreel took his cue to deploy his ultimate rescuing move: lunge, embrace, cushion, drop, and cover.

He wanted to think that Cairo sidestepped because no self-respecting human would consent to being tackled to the ground by a smelly and sweaty boy who was out and about an entire day under the sweltering heat of the sun, which, to Gavreel's credit, probably held some grain of truth. The louder voice in Gavreel’s head prevailed, however, and it said something along the lines of, _Just because someone refuses to look at you doesn’t mean monsters lurk about them. Sometimes they just don’t know you._

Gavreel relinquished his dreams of becoming the village hero that day. He instead resolved to be the most popular person in the village.

(Which, he later found out, was already the case, albeit for less favorable reasons. He immediately wrote off that goal and aimed to be Cairo’s favorite person.)

Full disclosure: Cairo was no darling as a child—doubtful he can be considered one even now—, but Gavreel liked a challenge. Cairo had every reason to hate his guts after the stunt he pulled within ten minutes of being introduced, and even more so when Gavreel asked Cairo to play tag a few days later.

To sum up one of the many remarkable days of their friendship, Gavreel fell down—the second time in the presence of his unwilling friend—and hit his head on a round-edged rock. ("Rotten luck, idiot!" Cairo would yell later.) He was out for a good minute before he came to, greeted by what was to become Cairo’s trademark withering stare, amplified tenfold when Gavreel said, "Uh, psyche?"

(If asked about his scariest childhood memory, Gavreel would pick this moment when he was glowered at so fiercely that he wet his pants a bit, thankfully not enough to betray his nerves. A secret that he swore to never confess to Cairo.)

***

Actually, if asked about secrets he managed to keep from his best friend, Gavreel would come up with a blank. Even the tale of his pissing his pants when Cairo was truly upset with him the very first time, his most guarded secret, somehow slipped past.

He realizes his major blunder when he jolts awake with the biggest hangover known to mankind. There's the sound of the windows being thrown open and next he knows, the sun is on his face. Self-preserving instincts send him writhing away until he finds himself on his bedroom floor, cracking his eyes to squint at Pearl’s grinning face.

“Good morning, Gav,” his sister says, way too chirpy for Gavreel’s liking. “How’s our newest general feeling?”

“Like dying,” Gavreel rejoinders, groaning. “What did you make me drink anyway?”

Pearl rolls her eyes, plopping down next to him so the wooden floor and his already throbbing head rattle violently. “You’re such a baby,” she said. “It was the standard draft for brutes like you.”

Gavreel lifts up a hand as if to pinch Pearl in the armpit. His sister flicks his knuckles instead, and Gavreel pulls back with a pout. “You know they’re not my crowd.”

“There’s that, but you’re now their leader,” Pearl says, patronizing him. “It wasn’t your fault the village leader appointed you.”

“Why did I play the hero again?” Gavreel frowns at the ceiling above him.

“Oh, I know why,” Pearl says, inclining her head so she’s looking down at Gavreel again. He feels another terrible dizzy spell starting from the sudden change of view. “Cairo gave you permission.”

“What are you on about?”

Pearl makes a face, and she looks even funnier now. “Oh _p-uh-lease_ , Gavreel, _everyone_ knows that if Cai asked you to jump off a cliff, you would. Not that he’d ever make you do that, but you were holding back. Even your most avid haters know what you’re capable of. I’d even dare say they hated you more because you were half-assing your training and still the former general favored you.”

“I’m not half-assing anything,” Gavreel contends, a blatant lie.

“Yeah, and Cai didn’t laugh at you for telling him you pissed your pants when he got so angry when you tripped, almost killed yourself, and said psyche.”

Gavreel’s eyes bugged out. “I did what?”

“You told Cai your darkest secret,” Pearl says with no hint of enthusiasm.

“Shit. Was I really that drunk?”

 _"Yep,_ you crawled to his house and climbed through his window. Then you proceeded to confess your undying love for him. For the millionth time."

"I _crawled?"_ Gavreel whispered to himself, mortified.

"Of course that’s what you’re worried about," Pearl says, snickering. "But I was shitting. Your soldiers actually left your drunken ass when you started calling for Cai. I was with Alex when they passed us on their way out the pub. I tried to collect you but you started crying so Alex ran to get Cai—"

Pearl’s voice fades into the background as the memories start flooding his cotton-filled head: giving in to the pressure of drinking more than usual as Cairo prescribes (commands), telling his crew that he feels so undeserving and their mixed responses that only gave him more cause to chug, and Cairo arriving with disheveled hair and puffy eyes, likely to have been roused from his post-shift slumber.

"Gavreel," Cairo said as soon as their eyes met, disapproval written all over his face. Gavreel gulped, throat like sandpaper. Cairo must be royally mad. Imagine being disturbed from much-deserved rest after working more than the usual forty eight hours at the infirmary and Gavreel conveniently forgetting about how busy the healers were with all that went down the past week.

"Did I not tell you not to drink this much?" Cairo continued, leaving out the part that said, _You should’ve known you were going to pull something like this._

"Cai," Gavreel muttered, feeling panic rise in his chest, "p-please don’t look at me like that, Cai…"

Cairo crossed his arms. "Like what?"

"Like, like you did when I, when I fell down and a-almost cracked my skull open. D-do you remember, Cai? That day… that day I peed my pants a little 'cause you looked like… like you’re about to look like right now."

Gavreel’s bottom lip started quivering as the image of a young, round-faced Cairo swam into view and coalesced with the Cairo who was standing in front of him under the orange light of the pub. The twenty-year-old Cairo's chiseled jaw could presently cut through steel, but the set of it then and now were one and the same. 

The urge to cry and grovel consumed Gavreel. The last thing he wished to happen was for Cairo to be really disappointed with him this time.

"What are you talking about, Gav?" Cairo said in a tone that told Gavreel he was genuinely nonplussed. He pulled out a chair and sat across the table. "Why would that scare you?"

Gavreel's vision spun. "Because… because you looked like I disappointed you and, and—"

He wasn’t sure if it was the muted light or the alcohol-induced fog, but Cairo’s eyes were soft when he cut in with, "I’m not going anywhere, Gav, if that’s what you’re so scared of. I didn’t walk then. I won’t walk now."

The words unscrewed the cap to the bottle of Gavreel’s feelings, and his head fell to the table with a resounding thud before he burst into tears. Cairo was beside him in no time, cradling his head against his chest, and the last thing Gavreel recalled was the smell of peppermint and soap.

As if on cue, a knock on his door cuts through Gavreel’s thoughts. He turns to Pearl in question, but then Cairo’s voice filters through, calling, “Gav? Pearl?”

“I’m going.” Pearl rises before Gavreel can even grab at her sleeve to keep her there. She crosses the length of his room and swings open the door, and Gavreel shuts his eyes and makes no move to remove himself from the floor as Cairo’s footsteps echo in the wooden slats beneath him.

Cairo stops to stand right next to him. “Did you take the tonic for that hangover? I left it on your table.”

So Cairo brought him back? “I woke up and then I was down here.”

“Then get up.”

Gavreel opens his eyes and juts out his bottom lip, lifting both hands with some struggle. “Help me?”

Cairo narrows his eyes. “I’ve done enough of that last night.”

“Aw, you _love_ me,” Gavreel teases as he pushes off the floor with a groan so he can sit on the bed. “Did you come here to make sure I am nursed back to health?”

“Yes,” Cairo says, straight-toned. “I can’t have you falling on your face on your first day of being general.”

Gavreel knows it’s matter of fact, with Cairo’s being the lead healer’s apprentice, but he _knows_ that Cairo’s actually here as, first and foremost, his best friend of over a decade.

“I still can’t believe any of that happened,” Gavreel says as Cairo walks to his bedside table and snatches the vial that contains a clear liquid.

“That you saved the village chief from the enemies? It was very Gavreel-like if you’d ask me,” Cairo says as he rounds the foot of the bed and sits next to Gavreel, turning his face by the jaw and forcing the tonic into his mouth. It’s been over a year since he last took one, and Gavreel definitely did not appreciate the reacquaintance. He really should’ve listened to Cairo’s stern warnings stemming not only from the marvelous experience that is a hangover but, by and large, mostly from Gavreel’s penchant for drunken mischief.

“Do you really think that?” he asks when he’s done not-dying from the insipid medicine.

Cairo pinched his cheeks before letting go of his face. Gavreel immediately missed the warmth. “Of course. It was the epitome of Gavreel-ness. And didn’t I tell you to stop holding back? That was unbecoming of you.”

“You know why I didn’t want to really excel at it.”

Cairo makes a face. “Gav, you’re the best soldier in this village even before you got enlisted. There is no way in hell you can keep any of that from showing.”

“You know I’ll be gone for months, right? Even years?” Gavreel searches Cairo’s face for any hint of regret that he said the words that unleashed Gavreel’s want to get out and cross the borders. Sometimes, Gavreel finds it difficult to reconcile the Cairo of today with the Cairo who deflected his attempt to “save” him when they first met. “What if I find the answers to the questions I have out there?”

“Then you find them, and you can finally lay your doubts to rest,” Cairo says, firm. “And you’ll be gone for a while, so what? It’s not like you’re not coming back.”

“I know, but—” Gavreel cuts off. More than the prospect of not returning, coming home as a changed man is what daunts him the most. He grew up hearing the whispers about his origin, but he didn’t feel as conflicted as he did now, knowing that he stands on the cusp of war.

It doesn’t help that half his soldiers believe he’s going to turn his back once faced with the people he used to be part of. Even Gavreel struggles to believe that his absolute loyalty lies in the people where he found family and friends, where he found love, where he found Cairo.

Gavreel closes his eyes. This, at least, he has absolute belief in: “You know I love you, right?”

Cairo blinks at him. “I know, you’ve said it plenty of times before,” Cairo says, casting his gaze on the floor.

“I’m just scared, Cai.”

“Me, too.”

“Do I make you feel uncomfortable every time I say it?”

“No,” Cairo says, and Gavreel waits a beat, wishing he would say more, _anything,_ and not just skirt around the subject again.

Or be silent, like he is now. Again.

The silence permeates Gavreel’s skin, making him feel clammy and cold. He wants to ask, _Why then can’t you look at me after I say it? Why can’t you say it back when we both know in our heart of hearts that I’m not the only one who feels this way?_

“What scares you the most, Cai?”

“That I turn out to be supportive of you but not enough to make you fly.”

“What do you even mean? You’ve done nothing but encourage me.”

“Not always,” Cairo says, looking at him. His eyes look glassy. “I know how much you want to run away, Gav, I’ve always known, and I’m sorry it took me this long to make you feel that it’s okay. It’s okay to feel lost even in this found family.”

“Cai—”

“No, Gav, listen to me,” Cairo says, twisting about so he’s fully facing Gavreel. He raises both hands to hold Gavreel by the face and look at him when he says, “I don’t want you to be scared anymore. This is what you were meant to do. Take me out and everyone else in the equation and we both know what you’ll find.”

Gavreel’s eyes are brimming. “But Cai, I love you too much.”

“I know, I know that and I thank you for that,” Cairo says, thumbing away Gavreel’s tears. “But I can’t keep holding you back, Gav. I care so much that I can’t let you do that to yourself any longer.”

Gavreel collapses against Cairo, weeping into his shoulder. He knows they’re both hurting, but Cairo doesn’t succumb to tears and instead holds Gavreel through his. This is the closest he’ll ever get to hearing Cairo say he loves him back. So much that it seems he’s willing to set Gavreel free and get left behind.

***

A couple weeks pass by in a blur, and the cold season ends. The first day of summer finds Gavreel and his troops gathered in the village square. He stands before files and files of men and horses, carriages loaded with an arsenal of food and weapons and first aid supplies for the journey to the northern village. The home of the enemies, the home that once was his.

Dread fills Gavreel heart anew. What if he doesn’t like what he finds? What if he turns tail when confronted with the truth? What if he becomes the coward he worked so hard not to be? What if he can never go back?

He knows he needs to do this, to face his past so he can look forward to the future. A future that, he wishes, involved returning to Cairo and loving Cairo for the rest of his life.

Longing joins dread in a dangerous dance in his chest. He feels faint, and he hates this. He hates the uncertainty.

As if to keep him from spiraling, Angel neighs and kicks her front legs. Gavreel snaps out of his trance and reaches out a hand to pet the black mare's muzzle.

That’s when he sees him. Cairo glides over to stand next to Angel, looking at her, then to Gavreel. “Ready to go?” he asks, quiet, lips drawn to a shadow of a smile.

“I can’t ever be ready, you know that,” Gavreel says breathlessly.

Cairo moves to caress Angel’s muzzle, his hand brushing Gavreel’s. “I have something to say but please swear to me you won’t make a scene.”

“Cai, I love you,” Gavreel says, dropping his hand to his side and turning to Cairo. “You know that if you said so, I'd drop everything now and run away with you instead.”

Cairo chuckles, flicking him on the forehead. “You’re the most obnoxious man I’ve ever met.”

“And yet you chose to be my best friend.”

“Guilty as charged.”

“So, what is it that will drive me crazy?”

Cairo’s eyes are sparkling, and Gavreel’s trepidation magnifies tenfold. “Are you sure you want me to say it here, in front of all these people?”

Gavreel pretends to think, trying to rein in his nerves. He doesn't want to assume, but his hope grows as Cairo continues to stare at him as if he hung the stars in the sky. A feat that, in a heartbeat, he would gladly take on if Cairo willed it. “I profess my undying love for you wherever and whenever. Do you think I give a rat’s ass about what other people think?”

Cairo’s laughing now, and it only makes Gavreel want to kiss him and taste his smile and keep it with him. “That’s true.”

“Well, what now, Cai? I have a war to fight.” Gavreel purses his lips, playfully rolling his eyes.

Cairo smacks him on the shoulder. He stares at Gavreel, searching, then takes a deep breath before he speaks.

“You’re never going to let me live this down but last night, while I was moping because of your departure, my mom came to my room. We… had a long talk. Then she told me something funny.”

Gavreel’s heart lurches, but he tilts his head to encourage Cairo to go on.

“She said, and this is in verbatim, ‘Gavreel’s going to return no matter what. His parents promised him to you.’”

Gavreel blinks three times. The summer heat must be getting to his head, but when finally the implications dawn on him, all he manages is a small, “My parents did what?”

“You were promised to me, Gav.”

“What.”

Suddenly, the night before makes much more sense: Pearl’s threat of, _“You better come back or I’m going to castrate you for disgracing our parents,” and his mother’s, “Gavreel, you say you love Cairo with all your chest but make sure you walk the talk and come back for him, okay? Leila wouldn’t be very happy with me if you didn’t.”_

Gavreel’s pulse is in his ears. He doesn’t even realize that Cairo’s hand has found his until he feels the comforting squeeze. “I guess we’re betrothed,” says Cairo.

His eyes slowly meet his best friend’s, filled with tears. “Are you for real?” he asks in a hushed tone, careful, scared that if he spoke louder the mirage would melt away.

“Yes,” Cairo whispers back, smiling. “And I know I told you to be free but, Gav, last night, I realized I don’t want to lose you. I want you to find yourself but I want you to return home to me, too.”

“Cai, is this—”

“This is probably the last thing you want to hear but now that I have a future promised to me, a future where you’re part of my life for good, I can’t let you go without hearing it,” Cairo says. Gavreel wants to run, but he digs his heels into the ground and holds Cairo's hand tighter, bracing himself. _“I love you,_ Gavreel. I have for a long time. I’m so sorry—”

“Cai, I want to kiss you,” Gavreel says before his brain can catch up, barely above a whisper. 

Cairo’s tears are falling, but his face is brighter than the summer sun, as beautiful and wonderful and iridescent as when they first met. “Then kiss me, my future husband.”

Gavreel cradles Cairo’s face in his hands, and the moment their lips meet, the forgotten crowd bursts to cheers.

Only one thought registers as he sears the sweet, sweet taste of Cairo’s smile in his memory to take for the long, harrowing road. Here is a reminder of the home that’s waiting for him, of the man who’s going to love him no matter who he turns out to have been in a lifetime past.

Gavreel loves Cairo, and Cairo loves him back, and all is right in the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Thoughts? Feel free to let me know! Kudos are much appreciated, too! (And, if it counts, I speak Tagalog, too, so kung gusto n'yong mag-iwan ng komento in Tagalog, gora lang!)
> 
> Please look forward to day 7 for the bookend to this story.
> 
> If you want to yell at me on Twitter, feel free to do so: [@_bspctcldwrites](https://twitter.com/_bspctcldwrites/). 
> 
> Happy CaiReel week, Thirdwheels! :)


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